How many others have known,
The fruits of Chaos' seeds sown?
This is the sorrowful tale,
Of one seeking heaven and creating hell.

Once a star so bright,
Filled to bursting with light,
And as gentle as a stream,
Knowing many a dream.

But even strong fires begin to dim,
And beautiful flowers wilt at the stem.
This star fell from the sky,
And the Light began to die.

Now left in the Dark,
A soul left bare and stark,
At this point too late,
Lost in their hate.

Living in the shadows of life,
They found something in the Strife.
Setting aside their wrath,
They began a new path.

Even when the days were long,
It could be said nothing was wrong.
Maybe having it all,
Was the cause of their fall.

But it doesn't matter how,
It's all gone now.
The pleasure and the pain,
Wiped away like a stain.

How many know what it's like,
To lash out and Strike,
To tear and destroy,
Your own sense of joy?

This is the the story of the lost,
Nothing was the cost,
Nothing was the prize,
Past and future only lies.